Crossroads of Desperation
by Jonathan Priest
Summary: After the Crossroads of Destiny, the Gaang suffer seprately and collectively at the loss of one of their friends. How they feel, what they fear and the hope that Aang, though lost, will find his way back to them. Ch 4: Zuko. Reviews appreciated
1. Chapter 1: Katara

A/N: Following Crossroads of Destiny, this is a series of shorts focusing on the emotions and thoughts of the Gaang as they suffer through the toughest crisis of their young lives, the very near death of Aang at the hands of Azula. First person perspectives. Enjoy

Disclaimer: Disclaimed

**Crossroads of Desperation**

**Chapter 1: Katara**

Nothing was right. His pillows, his blankets…nothing was situated right, and yet I wasn't sure if he was too cold or too warm. I can't get him to stop shivering. Should he be reclining against his pillows or laying flat against the bed? Should I try to get him to drink a little more water or maybe another healing session? Though the last one didn't do so good…didn't do anything really, but I don't know what else to do. I can't stop myself. Because if I stop, my hands start shaking, and if my hands start shaking, I start wondering why and then everything comes crashing back to my mind like a wave carrying all my regret and pain and I'm pulled under, drowning in my grief and…

Why can't I stop my hands from shaking?

I pull back from that line of thought and try to busy myself again, occupying my mind and my hands by rearranging the blankets around his body, making sure he's tucked in, even though I know he is. Still, I have to make sure, because if I don't concentrate on that, then I'll be fixated on how still he looks. He almost looks peaceful in his dreams, but he just won't open his eyes. As much as I want him to, he won't open them; those beautiful gray orbs that laughed with hope and joy, shimmered with dreams of peace and compassion…glimmered with just the smallest hope of love whenever he looked at me. He thought I didn't see it, but I did. I was just too afraid something would happen. Something like this would happen…and it did. And I'm swept with a new wave of regret that he may never know. I may never get the chance to tell him. Spirits don't let him die.

I have to turn away. I can't see him through the blurring of my eyes anymore, and I'm so consumed by that realization that I don't recognize that my hands have started shaking again. Why did this happen? He was so full of life, so full of the joy of living that he burst with happiness at even the smallest discovery. And now he's laying on this bed, so still, so cold, like all the joy has been sucked right out of him. It doesn't seem real. He doesn't seem real. All the goofy smiles and playful antics, all the happy laughter and thrill of discovery and exploration, and all that's left of him is this shell lying against the mattress.

All that I have are the questions. Why? Why did this happen? Why wasn't I better prepared to stop Azula? Why did I trust Zuko? Why won't he open his eyes? How did it all come to this? What will I do if he…? That question is never finished. Thank the spirits I don't have the strength to finish that thought, because my lungs have seized on me. I can't breath, I can't see and the only sound I can make is the choking sobs that keep tearing themselves past my lips despite my best effort to hold them in. And I suffer for my efforts. My head feels like it's splitting along the seam, this pressure at the corner of my jaw keeps building and my eyes are bleeding tears that won't stop. And my hands won't stop shaking. Why won't my hands stop shaking?

A heavy hand drops on my shoulder as I whipped around, hoping, desperately praying that Aang has woken up, offering his comfort like always. But it wasn't.

Sokka must have heard my breakdown and came to see. And it was that sudden, meaningless hope that perhaps, just maybe, Aang had woken up, but that dream was just another foolish display of my misplaced optimism. Just one more shattering disappointment I couldn't handle. And strength in my legs gave out as I slumped against the wall, sliding to the floor while my pain renewed its efforts to smother me in my grief.

For a moment, Sokka was torn, turning between Aang and me. Even if I couldn't see him, I knew what was going through his mind. That maybe my uncontrolled sobs, my unrelenting suffering meant the worst had happened, that Aang didn't…no, I can't even voice that thought. But still, it was a very real possibility, even if I couldn't face it. And my tears continued to fall, and the shaking in my hands had taken over my entire body. Not since my mom have I felt this helpless, this…hopeless. There was nothing I could do. I'm just not strong enough to deal with this, and that helplessness only escalated my uncertainty. I'm lost without him…and I never told him. And that regret was thrown back into my face every time I looked at his prone form tucked beneath the blankets. Why did this happen?

My thoughts were silenced as Sokka's arms wrapped around my neck in a hug that was as awkward as it was comforting. I couldn't do anything but feel even more guilt. Here was my brother, not known as the most comforting person, trying his best to take some of my grief onto himself, to help unburden my heart while his best friend lay in bed, unmoving and so very close to death. I felt weak, and helpless and useless in that moment, but at the same time, I only wanted someone to protect and care for me. Because I was tired. Tired of caring so much that it hurt, and tired of dieing a little inside every time I thought of Aang.

"Come on," Sokka said, his words coming out in a husky stint beyond the emotions that seemed to strangle his voice. "I'm taking you to your room. You need some rest."

"N-no…" my words echoed only half-heartedly in my denial of his concern. I was being led from the room, and despite the weak delivery of my refusal, I couldn't, wouldn't leave Aang. "He needs me Sokka."

"And you need your rest. I promise Katara, he's not going anywhere."

My mind seemed to clear at that moment, and I pulled away from my brother, pushing off as I did to place a distance between us that stunned us both. "I won't leave him Sokka. I can't! What if something happens and he needs a healing treatment, or needs something to make him more comfortable. What if…what if he doesn't pull through," I said, my words choking on the grief that constricted my lungs and squeezed my heart with the painful misery that had consumed me ever since we arrived from Ba Sing Se. It took all my strength and the vast majority of my reserves to even voice that possibility, and doing so left me drained and empty as I dropped to my knees, fresh tears pouring from my eyes in stinging regret. "What if he dies, and I never tell him…"

Sokka was on his knees in a second, joining me on the floor and placing his hands on either shoulder. "Katara, he's not going to die."

"You don't know that!"

"Neither do you!" he shouted back. His eyes swimming with hurt and compassion, a look I've only seen once before. It was the same look my dad gave me after my mom died, and it brought a new level of despair to me. "But Katara, you need your rest. You can't…do this to yourself. You're going to kill yourself with exhaustion, you've been up four days straight and…"

"I can't leave him," I said quietly, each word spoken hesitantly as if trying to make Sokka understand. "He needs me Sokka. I-I need him too." The confession was spoken without fanfare, without dawning recognition; it was spoken simply, as though it was something that only needed to be confirmed through words. I needed him. I needed Aang, and speaking those words brought a clarity to my mind and lifted some unspoken burden that I never knew weighed on me.

I turned my face to look at Sokka, my eyes seeking out his to see what he made of my words. Surprisingly, he did not seem nonplused by my words in the least, but looked as though whatever argument he intended to make was defeated before they could be voiced. Knowing no argument would change my validating intent; he bowed his head as though uncertain what to do.

"Katara, you need your sleep," he said, his voice soft and direct; yet he failed to realize I would not relent. This was where I needed to be. He seemed to sense that as well as he shook his head in mild frustration, "Fine," he said simply, rising to his feet and pulling me along with him. Still holding my shoulders, he directed me backwards until the backs of my knees collided with the edge of the mattress, and I sat, almost forcefully, on the bed. "If your going to be stubborn about this, and you're not going to listen to me, then sleep on Aang's bed." The words seemed almost hesitant, as though Sokka couldn't quite believe he had voiced the suggestion himself.

I didn't care though; it made perfect sense to me. I did need sleep, for that, Sokka was right. And I would not leave Aang, I just couldn't. So this made the most sense. As I stood up to pull back the blankets however, Sokka quickly stopped my act by tapping me on the shoulder.

"I said _on_ the bed, as in, _on top_ the covers," he said, his arms crossed and a look of defiant resistance painting his features. "Aang's under the blankets, your on top them. That's the deal."

I really didn't care, I just needed sleep, and I needed to be near Aang. I had hardly acknowledged Sokka's lamenting; over-protecting demands as I moved as directed, on top the covers. But still, I snuggled close to Aang, one arm protectively over his chest as I lay my head against his shoulder.

I almost didn't pay attention to Sokka's reserved departure, or even notice that the shivering in Aang's body had ceased. All I cared was that I was with him, and I would keep him safe. Maybe, if he came back to me…I'd find the courage to tell him. But honestly, I just don't know. For now, this was enough.

XxX

A/N: Okay, as stated, this is a series of character introspections on their feelings regarding Aang's coma after being shot with lightning. It will work as Katara, Toph, Sokka, Zuko and finally Aang in that order, so five chapters total. As for the Kataang, I can't help it, they're a perfect couple, and Zutara just doesn't make any sense. Anyway, reviews are always appreciated. Danke


	2. Chapter 2: Toph

Crossroads of Desperation

Chapter 2: Toph

I hate this. All of it.

I hate this feeling of uselessness; feeling completely powerless to do anything while one of my best friends…my first true friend is laying in a bed fighting for his life. I hate that I can't do anything for him, and because of that my feeling of uselessness only feeds on my feelings of guilt. Because if I can't help him, if I can't save him, then what good am I?

I hate this so much.

I hate that I wasn't there to stop Azula from striking him down with lightning. Instead I was off saving some worthless, jelly-spined king from a coup that was his own fault from the beginning because, like the idiot he was, he trusted the wrong people. Instead, I saved him, and it nearly cost Aang his life. It wasn't worth it. None of it was. None of what we did, none of what we tried to accomplish. It all blew up in our face, reflecting our own failure in the processed. Yeah, we failed, and Aang paid for it in the worst way.

I really wish I knew what had happened in that cave, but Katara won't talk about it without nearly breaking down into a blubbering mess. I guess I can't blame her really. Aang may be one of my best friends, but he _is_ her best friend. But I want to know what happened, so I can stop blaming everyone else. I blame Katara for not protecting Aang. I blame Aang for not protecting himself…and I blame myself for going off to save that waste of skin, poor excuse of a king instead of protecting my friend.

But really all my anger should be directed at Azula. Part of it is. Part of me knows that if Aang doesn't pull through, if he doesn't make it, there's no place on this planet Azula will be able to hide from me. She's so proud of what she's done, thinking herself the killer of the Avatar. Imagine how much shame she'll feel knowing a blind girl crippled her. But then, a larger part of me know that if that happens, if Aang dies, then I probably won't do anything because I'll be reduced to as big of a blubbering mess as Katara.

And that is the crux of it. Without Aang, I never would have been inspired to leave home, I never would have felt freedom for the first time, and I would have never known what it meant to have friends. And that's what I hate most about this entire event, because without Aang, I realize how powerless I was to choose my own life. I never would have left home. I'd still be the same, sheltered, hidden blind daughter of the Bei Fong family. Guarded from the world, kept the little known secret shame of my family because of my blindness. But I was never helpless. I was never weak. That is, until this moment when the one person who gave me my freedom was struck down with lightning.

It hurts me to admit that there's nothing I can do for Aang. I have no ability to heal, no words of motivation that are going to snap him out of his coma. No words of comfort to offer to Katara, who is suffering worse than any of us, and Sokka, who is trying so hard to put on a strong face, but failing. And it terrifies me. It really does, to realize that without Aang, this makeshift family of ours, these wonderful friends I've come to love more than my own family, would never have been brought together.

But more than that, I feel helpless. Katara is trying desperately to heal Aang, to bring him back to us. Sokka is coping with his own uncertainty by doing what he can to shoulder our grief. He always tailored himself the protector, much like Katara is the nurturer. But there's nothing I can do. Nothing to help ease the pain from Katara, nothing to help shoulder the burden Sokka has taken on himself. Nothing for me but to stay in the shadows, hidden, useless and unneeded. And that realization stings me more deeply than any insult I've ever endured, any snide comment on my appearance or my worth, because it makes me wonder if my parents weren't right about me?

I am helpless and weak. I stopped being independent when I began depending on Katara and Sokka and Aang. Depending on them to be there for me, to offer comfort and companionship. I stopped being strong when I failed to protect my best friends, Aang from being hurt, and Katara from suffering because of that attack. And now all I have is that lingering doubt that I've become exactly what my parents believe I am, the weak, helpless, frail little blind girl who speaks with a sarcastic tongue, but deep down is just scared of the world.

It's true that I am scared. I act tough. I want to be tough. I want to be able to live my life without being sheltered and guarded, without parents fearing that the slightest inconvenience will traumatize my fragile little life. And yet, here I am, sitting beneath this palm tree, tossing rocks into the ocean and feeling desperately useless and powerless to change anything that's happened in the last week. And it hurts me to admit that I feel so inadequate, so feeble because I am.

I hate it all. I hate my parents for planting that seed of doubt into my mind. I hate Katara, Aang and Sokka for making me dependant on someone else, only to be reminded that I can do nothing to help save the people I love and need in my life, because I am so weak. I hate Azula because she had no right to attack my friends. And I hate myself because I have no power to stop the aching pressure in my jaw, the tightness in my chest and the stinging tears that fight for their liberation from my eyes.

My only comfort is that in my blindness, I cannot see the world blurring through my clouding eyes. Because I don't need any more reason to grieve.

A/N:

This one was actually tough to write, because it's hard to get Toph into a sentimental tirade without her appearing OOC. Still, she has cried a number of times in the series, but I see her as someone who'd suffer alone, and despite her outward appearance, she's not as confident as she wants others to believe, (i.e. Tales of Ba Sing Se, being upset at the insults she received about her appearance despite her claims it didn't bother her.) Anyway, this was a tricky chapter and I hope I pulled it off. The others will be much easier than this.

Another thing, and I apologize for sounding rude, but I am slightly disappointed that chapter 1 had 82 hits with only 1 review (again, thank you so much arizony). It's rather disheartening to see that little critique/comments posted on a story after that much activity. I'm not saying everyone who reads needs to comment, but if you liked the story, it would be nice to know that I'm doing something right.

Well, thanks for reading.


	3. Chapter 3: Sokka

**Crossroads of Desperation**

**Chapter 3: Sokka**

I just don't know what I'm doing anymore. I wander this same small stretch of land over and over again, searching for answers, trying to understand how it all came to this…and I just can't make sense of it. One moment, our little band of adventures is meeting with the Earth King, securing his support for an invasion into the Fire Nation in preparation for the Day of Black Sun, and then the next thing we know, we're running for our lives and abandoning the city to an internal coup that did what no army could. It conquered Ba Sing Se. And the whole, damnable part of it is, that's not even the worst of it.

Ba Sing Se, the last legitimate threat opposing the Fire Nation's dominion over the earth has fallen, and I'm too consumed over everything else to even care. Aang, my best friend…the closest thing I've ever had to a brother, is lying unconscious in bed right now, and I can't do a damn thing to help him. When we left Ba Sing Se, Katara was frantic, almost inconsolable, and Aang was hurt, I mean really, really hurt. Katara never told us, and I don't have the courage to ask just how bad his injuries were…are…and I think I'd rather remain ignorant on that. I don't want to think that he nearly died or even that he might still. I just want to hold on to my little piece of hope that everything's going to work out.

I'm trying to do just that, I really am…but it's just so hard. My sister has all but fallen apart because of Aang's injuries. I always knew they were close, but I guess this has just put everything into perspective. She refuses to leave his side and she insists that she has to be there for him when he wakes up. Some times she seems so certain he's going to recover, but then other times she breaks down completely beneath the fear that he's going to die. So not only do I worry about losing my best friend, but I also worry for Katara, because if Aang doesn't make it, and Spirits I pray that he does, but if he doesn't pull through, I don't think Katara could handle that. I really fear she would just wither away because of it…and then I suppose it would be my turn, because I can't handle losing anyone else. First my mom, then Yue, and now Aang's on the brink and Katara's not far behind. Spirits, I'm only 15; I shouldn't have to contend with this much loss and fear. I shouldn't have to feel like the universe is just trying to how much I can endure before it crushes me, because really…I can't take much more. I just can't.

My jaw tightens instinctively as I pull back the clouding tears that are threatening to overtake my eyes. This is just maddening. What ever happened to just being a kid? Just having fun with my life, sharing good times and laughs with my sister and best friends. Instead, the entire fate of the world gets dumped on our shoulders and we spend our days moving from one crisis to the next and as the result of fixing the problems the adults have made, Aang's hurt, possibly dying and all we can do is wait and hope for the best. And the waiting is the worst.

Sometimes, when I feel like its all just too much for me, when I'm just tired of trying to bear the responsibility of keeping us from smothering in our fear and regret, I toy with the idea of seeking out Toph and unloading some of this burden to her. But one look at her and I just can't do it. She's suffering just as much as we are, and sure, she tries to put on a brave face, but I know better. She's not as self-assured as she wants us to believe.

She may not be as emotionally fragile as Katara about what we're all going through, but she's still suffering, and I guess I just can't bring myself to talk it out with her. In a way, as strange as it is, we're all stuck enduring this alone. We've been together for so long, have been through so many things together, yet we can't share this with one another. I don't know if its because we feel we can't open up because it'll just hurt too much, or if we don't want to dump our own pain into a collective pot for us all to stew in, but we've distanced ourselves from each other…and its because the one person who kept us bonded is lying in a coma right now. And there's nothing we can do to change that.

I turn my eyes towards the sky and fix them on the crescent moon, thinking how beautiful it is and remembering that it's a pale imitation to the beauty of the woman who gave her life to ascend as the Moon Spirit and save us all. She was so strong, so full of life; I just can't help but wonder what could have been, if only…

Then I think back to the day my mother died. I was young, too young to lose her. But that didn't stop fate from stealing her from my life. It hurts to think that I don't think about my mother anymore. Used to, all my memories were happy ones, her smile, her stories, her cooking. But lately all I can remember is that day, the day we were attacked by the raiding party that took my mother from me. I didn't really start focusing on that even until after Yue. I'm not sure why. I don't think I ever knew until right now.

Because right now my best friend, my _brother_, is so still and so close to death, and Katara and Toph are both suffering, just as much as me. It stings to realize just how powerless I am. I was powerless to protect my mother, I was powerless to protect Yue, and now I can't do anything to help Aang. And the real heart of it all is, I promised the king I would protect Yue and I promised my father that I would keep Katara safe, and all that happened as a result was my failure. I couldn't save Yue. And now Katara is suffering because I couldn't protect Aang, and it's all my fault.

It's my fault for being weak; it's my fault because I can't protect the people I love and the people who need me most. And I can't protect the people I need either. I can't save anyone…

I barely register the collision of my knees against the ground as I slump in desperation and pour all my fear and self-loathing helplessness into the night. I cry. I cry for my mother, I cry for Yue, I cry for Aang and Katara and Toph and all the people who ever put their faith in me to protect them. I cry my misery into the unforgiving night and wait patiently for some words of consolation, some Spirit or act of divine guidance to ensure me that everything will work out despite my insecurities. But I get neither their wisdom nor their comfort…and deep down, I prefer it that way. Because despite my hope to the contrary, I don't deserve it.


	4. Chapter 4: Zuko

**Crossroads of Desperation**

**Chapter 4: Zuko**

I've never felt so lost in my life. I know where I'm going, and where I've been, but I just…don't know what I'm doing anymore. I mean, I'm on a ship, heading back home…_home_…Even saying it, even being on this ship cutting through the waters on our way back to the Fire Nation, I can't begin to put to words how long I've waited for this day. And yet, it's not at all like I thought it'd be.

I never expected parades or anxious servants tripping over one other to accommodate my every whim; congratulations from war veterans who respect me even if I'm still too young to have experienced all they've seen. Well, perhaps once I had envisioned a life of surging esteem, worship and unshakable devotion from those who bowed in homage to be in the presence of my greatness. I'm almost certain, at one point in my life, I expected the prostrating loyalty of all my subjects, that it should be granted to me not because I earned it, but because it was my birthright. I was their prince, and they _should feel_ privileged to honor me.

That thought is almost comical to me now. I've seen too much, I've changed too much to ever be that pompous child who believed I was great because I was born great that I once was. I've seen families torn apart by the war we've initiated for the sole reasons of spreading our greatness. I've helped those same families when help was needed most; only to have them turn on me, throw stones and rotten cabbages once it was discovered whom I was. I've stolen, I've begged, I've lied and killed and pilfered my talents and my ambitions all in the pursuit of my honor…and now that I have it restored, I don't know who I am any more.

It seems terrifying to know that, even when I have done good, I was spat upon and turned out because of who I am. Does the entire world hate us so much? Have our crimes been so unspeakable that even our deeds of generosity and kindness are met with hatred and mistrust? Is our desire to extend our greatness, to show the world united under a common banner just one never-ending hypocritical atrocity? Where did we go wrong…or were we ever in the right to begin with?

I blame uncle.

Before I listened to all his nonsensical pearls of wisdom, I never considered any of these issues. We were the Fire Nation. The proud country that wanted to share its greatness with others. I never thought, considered really, how much that greatness affected other nations. If other nations rejected our desire to share our gifts with the world, then why did we persist in this useless war? What was the point of it all?

Damn you uncle for making me question everything I thought I knew. I thought I understood the way the world worked. But after all I've seen, after all I've done…I can't really be sure any more. _Never forget who you are_. My mother's words haunt me still, because I have forgotten who I am. I forgot a long time ago. Because that person I thought I was, isn't me. Because I've realized in my three year exile, that the choices I make, the actions I take, they just don't impact my life, they affect everyone around me.

It's a startling realization to understand that principle, because it was never a lesson I learned at the palace, pampered by those nameless, faceless servants who lived to accommodate my every whim. That girl, Song, and her mother whose Ostrich-Horse I stole, the Earth Kingdom family who's son went missing because of the war, that man who humiliated uncle for a laugh before giving us a gold piece, I've hurt so many people, and I never would have given it a second thought three years ago. Why does it bother me now then?

I know why. Even if I don't want to admit it, I know what it was that caused this metamorphasis in me. It was him. Not uncle, but him…the Avatar. Even thinking about that last fight in the caves still sends a chill up my spine. For so long, I had only one single obsession. Capture the Avatar, and restore my honor. And now, as I think about all the people I hurt and betrayed in my quest…I'm forced to dwell on the Avatar because I've realized, he was a person.

It's strange to even discount, but I had never thought of the Avatar as a person before, at least not really. I think that was partly because it would have interfered with my mission. How could I have pursued a boy, a child really, for the sole purpose of locking him in chains if I concerned myself with his hopes and dreams, his desires and ambitions and friendships and loves? How could I have maintained my desire to regain my honor at the cost of the Avatar's freedom if I put a face, a real human identity to him? The short answer is, I couldn't. That's why I never thought of him as anything more than a tool to regain what was stolen from me.

But everything has changed now. I do feel regret for my actions, I do understand the consequences of my choices, and I am burdened by my guilt. Betraying uncle, stealing the Ostrich-Horse from that mother and daughter who cared for us, betraying my mother's final words to me…because I have forgotten who I am. I sacrificed my identity to achieve my honor.

And then there's the Avatar. I may not have killed him, but I might as well have. All the times I've hunted him, pursued him, tracked him across the earth as if he were just another possession that served only my justifiable greed. He was a piece of property and nothing else. Yet, I'm forced to remember his lively banter, his energetic evasions, and every instance that proved a reminder of just who he was as a person has come haunting me on the echoing screams of his dying breath. Azula's lightning strike was accurate and as deadly as I expected it would be, and it killed the Avatar. I still remember seeing him dance like some grotesque marionette, the screams of his waterbending friend as she watched him die, and the limp, lifeless body that no longer resembled the all-powerful Avatar, but just a frail and helpless boy as he fell to the ground.

The Avatar is dead, uncle is in prison…mother is, no one knows where she's disappeared. And with that realization I finally begin examining the one question I've been afraid to answer. What, if anything, do I have waiting for me back home?

As if carried on the wind, I hear the Avatar's voice asking a similar question, one that seemed to be asked a lifetime ago. '_If we knew each other back then, do you think we could have been friends_?'

I grip the banister and tighten my jaw against the sob threatening to overwhelm me, because now I'll never know.

A/N: I rather enjoyed this one. Zuko has always been a deep character and his character evolution has always been one of the better developments of the series, so I wanted to touch on that part of Zuko, the realization that his actions have consequences that extend beyond himself.

Aang's quote is from The Blue Spirit, at the end. I really think it was touching, almost desperate, that Aang really, truly wanted to be Zuko's friend, and I really wanted Zuko to realize that as well.

Anyway, as always, if you're kind enough to read, please be kind enough to review. Thank you.


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